Chapter 38

So this week, Monday came on Tuesday. It was a 'take Cindy to work' day. I enjoyed these, and it was apparent from the reactions of my coworkers that they enjoyed this, too. Our breakfast at the little roadside restaurant was one of those things where we found a table and as soon as we sat down, we were joined by Bill and another one of the engineers, Phil, the guy that was doing our controls.

"So, Miss Cindy, how was the concert?" Bill asked.

Cindy beamed. "Oh, Mister Bill, it was magnificent. They played one of my favorite pieces. It was so perfect that I was in tears."

"She was," I said. "She was moved more than I was. And I've been waiting to see that performance all my life."

Bill smiled. "Well, I'm glad you all had a good time. I hope we have as much fun today."

Phil laughed. "Dan, you and me might be good at our jobs, but we ain't no Bach!"

Cindy wasn't gonna let that one go by. "Maybe not Johann Sebastian, but maybe a son?"

"Bill," I said, "do you remember Alan Addison?"

"Yeah, you and him worked together on that project in Arizona? That the one?"

"Yeah, that's the one. We ran into them in Charlotte."

"Them?" Bill asked.

"Yes sir," Cindy chirped. "It's 'them'. We met him and his new wife. Got pictures and everything."

"Bill," I said, "it won't do you any good for us to tell you about it. Wait'll you see the pictures."

We ate our breakfasts, lingering only slightly over the coffee. Work waited on us. To be honest I was kind of excited about it. These big generators were my reason for existence. Not very many people get to play with toys this size. We'd done our work correctly. I and my crew knew exactly what we were supposed to do and we had the tools to do it with. I expected things to go smoothly. After all, that's what they paid me for.

Cindy looked cute, bundled up against the raw cold of the early morning in February. We walked into the office. Cindy stopped for a few minutes to chat with Sara, excitedly relating some of the weekend's events as I fired up my computer and started checking the backlog of e-mails. There wasn't anything to stop the day's events. I'd already touched base with the controls engineer. Our mechanical engineer and an engineer belonging to our client wanted to talk about what was going on for the day.

"Boilers are checked out. The turbine's on turning gear. We've had steam on it since four o'clock this morning. We're about ready to bring her up to speed." At least that's what our engineer said. The client representative nodded his head in agreement. He'd better nod. This was his first start up of a steam turbine generator.

"Okay, then," I said. "I guess I'll go to the control room and start the festivities." Cindy was standing patiently in the background. "Come on, Cindy! Let's go see if Mister Jerry's new toy starts." Jerry was the client's chief engineer.

Cindy smiled over her shoulder at him as we walked out the door. She looked cute in her hardhat and safety glasses. And if somebody had checked, she was wearing a little pair of steel toed shoes. Of course, being an escorted observer, she could've gotten away with no steel toes. But we bought those before the client was on the project and Cindy was taking a much more active part.

The ride to the control room was brisk in the front seat of an open golf cart. The warm air inside felt really good. And I knew that when I walked behind the control panel, MY technicians had a coffee pot going. There were already several people in the control room: start up crew, the client's new operators, a handful of our interested engineers. On the control console, a binder was open, several pages into the startup procedure. Yes, I was a major author of that startup procedure. I was proud of that.

The procedure bringing the turbine up to speed was the responsibility of the mechanical guys. All I had to do was stand back with my arms folded and stay out of the way. I thought that's what Cindy was gonna do, too, when somebody pulled a chair up at the console, a little off to the side and motioned for her to sit in it. "So you can see what's going on."

The client engineer sidled up to me. "The guys say that's your wife?" In a low voice.

"Yes, she is. You're looking at a girl who'se gonna graduate high school when she's fourteen and in the fall of next year, she's gonna be enrolled in engineering school at either the University of Alabama or at Auburn." I was sure he'd heard that part of the story, too, but I was proud of my Cindy.

"Yeah," he said, "Bill Carmody told me all about 'er. I've heard of kids like that. I mean, you know, really smart. Just never really got to see one. I wonder if they're all that cute?" He looked at me, smiling. "Phil told me about her programming the test console."

"Uh-huh," I said. "She surprised 'im. But you just wouldn't imagine how fast her mind grasps technical things. Did any of them tell you that she's flying a plane, too?"

"Oh, no. Seriously?"

"Yeah, we own a plane. Little single engined job. She's too young to get a license, but age is the only thing that keeps her from getting one. She's an old soul in a young body."

I guess I was talking too loud. She turned, flashing a smile under those green eyes. "It's not polite to talk about person behind her back."

"Just tellin' Mister Jerry about you, that's all." I smiled at her.

We patiently watched while the mechanical folks brought the turbine up to speed. That took a while. They bring it up a few hundred RPMs, let it stabilize, check temperatures and vibrations and flows, then advance another few hundred RPMs and repeat the process. I was looking for 3600 RPMs. When they got up to 3300, that's when I got interested.

My procedure called for this first production of electric power from this generator to be under manual control. I stood behind the console operator, viewing the control screen for the electrical part of the turbo generator. I could see that the icon for the excitation system that would make my generator start generating was properly in the 'manual' position.

"Coming up to full speed," somebody said.

I can hear the pitch change is high-pressure steam rushed through thousands of precision blades, spinning tons of steel and copper. I saw the magic number '3600'. "Get your readings," I said, "and say when." A minute passed.

The mechanical engineer looked up. "Looks good," he said. "Let's see if your shit works."

"George! Watch your language! Cindy's here!" That was Bill. He was here to watch the festivities and now he was taking care of his adopted grand-daughter.

George turned bright red. "Oops! Sorry, Cindy. I don't mean to be coarse."

Cindy giggled. "That's okay, Mister George. Dan says not to expect too much out of mechanical guys." Her comment caused titter of laughter to run through the room.

"Now that the social proprieties have been addressed," I said, turning to the operator, "go ahead and start increasing the excitation. Let's get it up to thirty-five hundred volts."

I remembered working in powerhouses where that procedure would've involved turning a large wheel. That was the old way. This was state-of-the-art. A mouse moved the pointer on the screen and a couple of clicks were made and I watched the voltage climb. 25 percent. "Okay," I said, "let's go to seven thousand."

That was easy. At seven thousand volts there was no sign of any problem. "Okay," I said. "ten five." That was close enough to seventy-five percent voltage to satisfy me. Again the right number showed up on the screen and there were no problems.

Cindy turned and smiled at me. She smiled at Bill. "Here goes," she said.

The operator looked at her and smiled, then looked at me. "Thirteen eight?"

I nodded in assent. "Here goes!" the operator repeated Cindy's comment. A couple more clicks on the mouse and we were at full rated voltage. We looked at the display and saw no adverse indications. "Okay," I said. "We contracted for fourteen four. Let's get there." And we got there.

Along with the mechanical guys, I scanned the indications for any problems. Saw none. "Okay! Let's let 'er cook for a couple hours," I said.

George was following along in the startup manual. "And after that we tie to the grid?" He looked at me.

"Yeah, I guess we should, I mean, if you folks want to sell some electricity," I said.

"Yeah," he laughed, "it's a big beautiful toy but I think my boss wants to make money off of it."

Bill looked at his watch. "Let me get Sara to order some sandwiches for this crew. Looks like we're gonna work through lunch."

"Looks like it," I said.

The operator looked at Cindy. She had a smile a mile wide. "What'd'ya think?"

"I think it works like it's supposed to," she smiled. "We do good work, don't we?" With that infectious grin of hers, she got smiles from the room.

My lead technician stuck his head around the control cabinet. "Got doughnuts to go with the coffee," he said.

I laughed. "And that's exactly why you're the lead technician," I said.

The rest of the day was just as exciting. It was a good kind of excitement, you know, where months of work in preparation all come together and things work like they're supposed to. You walk out of the place, feeling satisfied.

Midafternoon, Cindy and I were back in the office trailer. Cindy went to Bill's door, peeking inside to see if he was busy. He looked up and saw her. "Hey, Princess," he said. "Whatcha got?"

"Got those pictures of me and Dan and Alan and Tina from the concert," she smiled. "Thought you might want to see."

"I sure do," he said. He followed Cindy back into my office where I had the pictures up on my monitor.

I turned the monitor so he could see. First thing he said was, "Cindy, you sure do look nice in that dress."

"Thank you, Mister Bill," Cindy said. "That's sweet of you to say so."

He bent a little bit closer to the monitors to get a better view. "That IS Alan Addison," he said. "And that's his wife? How old is she?"

"Seventeen," Cindy chirped. "And I think she's my sister. We adopted each other." She giggled. If that giggle melted my heart, then it vaporized Bill's.

Bill straightened up, smiling. I flashed the second picture up, the close-up of Cindy and Tina.

"I can see where just about anybody would think that," he said. He looked at me. "When you an' Alan worked with me in Arizona, wasn't he, like, a recent divorcee?"

"Wasn't that recent but yes," I said. "He got divorced about the same time as my wife had her accident. We hung out together."

"How long's he been married?"

"'Bout as long as me and Cindy," I said. I gave him the synopsis of the Alan and Tina story. He looked amused as he left.

Cindy pulled out her cell phone. "I'm gonna call the Hardesty's and see if we can bribe our way into their house with pizza," she said. She dialed Jim's office. "Hey, Mister Jim. It me! Cindy!" Pause. "Yes sir! We had a wonderful time. I'm here with Dan and we were wondering if we could save Mizz Ann from cooking supper. We'll buy pizza." Pause. "Okay, great! We'll be there when we get off work." She looked at me. "Dinner with the Hardesty's." She smiled.

I finished up some loose ends around the office while Cindy gave Sara a hand with some filing. Then it was time to go. On our little golf cart ride to the parking lot, we noticed that the wind shifted around. Welcome to winter in the South. A couple of clear days ... a couple of rainy days. Repeat. For months. We got in the truck and as I was driving down the road, Cindy was ordering pizza for delivery to the Hardesty's. We didn't even go by the trailer to change clothes or shoes. Didn't bother me any. I thought Cindy was cute as a button in her 'Little Miss Engineer' costume. As a matter of fact, I had a few new pictures on the computer from today's festivities.

After she finished ordering the pizza, she turned to me. "I'm gonna call MY sister," she said. She poked at her cell phone, then held it to her ear. "Hi, sis," she chirped. "How's everything?" Pause. Pause. Little gasp. Pause. "You're okay? Alan's okay?"

I looked at her, trying to decipher the sound of concern her voice. Her eyes were wide.